I love to meander. Either literally or figuratively. In my mind, telling a story or on my feet, I find it so gratifying.
Not always so for others. My husband can be driven a bit crazy by my sometimes long and winding way of coming to the point of a story, for example.
I get it. I love straight lines too. There a times I get to the point! Indeed!
Give me a route, I love to follow the way.
But to let that all go: plans, destinations, paths, pre-determined places to end up or problems to solve by this deadline or that…
To simply go where the wind blows me. To follow my nose. To follow clues.
To listen to the guide from within as old as the sea urging me this way or that.
This is how I find the best places. This is how I end up living the most “perfect” days. (Rarely the days I painstakingly plan.)
To sit and let my mind go from association to association, knowing that nothing is crucial but it is all valuable and each morsel may lead to something wonderful.
That is where my creativity comes alive, in the seemingly random twists and turns of consciousness as they dip into the collective unconscious.
Yes, I am a fan of meandering. As long as it is not in the Internet. That is the one place I am best served by staying to a clear intention and boundaries. Meandering there, I usually end up with regret and an emotional hangover.
But a day like today, meandering about Cape Cod. Priceless. Nourishing. Awesome.